


Theophany

by Tokyo_the_Glaive



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/F, Romance, Unconventional courtship, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 07:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokyo_the_Glaive/pseuds/Tokyo_the_Glaive
Summary: When a fisherman returns to Novis claiming that a mermaid helped him snare a dagon, Mae decides she wants to see for herself. Doing so will toss her into a centuries-old war and pit her against the undead, dragons, and the disciples of a god gone mad. Mae's never seen herself as a war mage, but for Celica?For Celica, Mae might just do anything.





	Theophany

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @unyieldingfires over on twitter who came up with the idea for a cute maelica mermaid AU which I just sort of...ran with. I have no idea how long this going to be ultimately but I hope you enjoy the journey!

The docks at the port of Novis stank of fish and the press of bodies under the beating sun. Mae wiped the sweat off of her forehead and checked behind her.

“Keep up, Boey!” she called. “We’re gonna miss the boat!”

Boey pushed past a sailor to come to her side.

“You’re the one who keeps running ahead,” he complained. “Do you even know which boat we’re looking for?”

“Nope!” Mae replied. “Wait, are you telling me you don’t know what we’re looking for? _Boey_!”

“I know what we’re looking for, it’s you who’s lost,” Boey shot back.

“Who’s fault is that, huh?”

Boey looked to the sky. He couldn’t win.

“It’s the _Pride of Zofia_. It should be up this way…” Boey said, looking around. He wasn’t the tallest man about, but the piles of crates and supplies was making it harder to see the names of the ships.

“Hey, look, up there!” Mae said. “Let’s go!” She grabbed Boey’s hand and pulled him through the crowds.

“Not so hard, Mae! Where are you going?!”

Mae didn’t respond. Her eyes were fixed on the ship up ahead, where a tremendous _thing_ took up most of the deck.

“Woah,” Mae said. “Boey, what _is_ that?”

Boey caught sight of it and gasped.

“That’s a dagon!” he said. “I’ve never seen one in person…”

“Don’t you mean _dragon_?” Mae asked. They approached, trying to push their way through a crowd of onlookers.

“No, lass, he’s got the right of it,” someone said. Mae looked up to see an unfamiliar face. He had an eyepatch and stunk like a tavern floor, not that Mae had ever been inside a tavern or anything.

“It’s a dagon all right,” he continued, one hand on the sword at his side. Boey squeezed Mae’s hand, and Mae squeezed back. “Damn big fish. I wonder how they managed to snag it…”

“Is it hard to catch?” Boey asked.

“Kid, do you see that thing?” the man asked. “Those beasts can spot a fishing line two miles out and are more interested in the human holding the line than the bait. It’s a damned _miracle_ to catch one.”

Mae’s eyes drifted away from the dagon. Cool as it was, she wanted to see the guy who’d caught the thing. He had to be a master angler—some sort of genius fisherman. Could she learn how to catch one of those beasts? Her magic would help, surely. She couldn’t imagine how many she could feed with even a single dagon. The priory would finally have something other than dried, over-salted shieldfish to eat!

She spotted a couple arguing at the edge of the crowd. They gesticulated violently at the dagon, and Mae supposed she’d found who she was looking for. Why didn’t the woman—the wife? Mae didn’t know—look very happy about the catch?

“I swear,” the man was saying. “I _swear_ , I saw one!”

“Darling,” the woman said, “they’re not real. You know that.”

“Look, I know you want to believe that I’m some sort of master fisherman or whatever because I bagged a beast like that,” the man said, “but I’m not. She was enormous—bigger than my ship even. Ask the skipper, he can tell you!”

“Your skipper doesn’t have the sense Mila gave a clam,” the woman shot back. “You’re seriously going to tell me that a _mermaid_ helped you kill a dagon?”

“Wait, _what?_ ” Mae asked. The pair didn’t hear her, but Boey did.

“Mae, what is it?” he asked.

“He says he saw a _mermaid_!” Mae said, turning to Boey. His eyes went wide.

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t think they were real!”

“Me neither,” Mae said. “Come on, let’s go talk to him!”

“But Mae, the ship!”

“Screw it!” she shot back. “We can go to the mainland any day, this is _mermaids_!” She took off, pulling Boey behind her once more. “I heard they’re huge and _gorgeous_! Can you even imagine something like that? Oh, to meet one just once…! Hey, buddy!”

The sailor didn’t respond, and Mae nudged him. He shrieked, and the woman laughed.

“Hey,” Boey said, “is it true you saw a mermaid?”

The woman sighed and looked to the sky as she said, “By the Goddess, honey, now look what you’ve done.”

The man, however, nodded emphatically.

“Yes!” he cried. “I did! Red hair and white scales, she had! Carried a great golden dagger. She delivered me that dagon, I swear upon my wedding night!”

“You’re not swearing _anything_ on that,” the woman snapped. She looked to Mae and Boey. “Forgive my husband. He’s dehydrated and probably needs a good meal or three. Come along, dear.”

“But I mean it!” the man said. Come to think of it, Mae thought he did look just a little green, and possibly manic. His wife led him away, leaving Mae and Boey alone. Behind them, the sight of the dagon had grown stale, or maybe others had decided that the smell was too much; either way, the crowd dissipated rapidly.

“Do you think he really saw one?” Boey asked. “A mermaid, I mean?” Mae bit her lip, deep in thought. Red hair and white scales with a golden dagger. Mae had a vision in her mind, and it was _gorgeous_. “Hey, Novis to Mae! You still in there?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, totally here,” Mae said, grinning. “What was that you were saying?”

Boey rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said, “your little detour might have cost us our trip. Let’s go see if we can find our ship.”

 

Mae and Boey managed to reach the _Pride of Zofia_ moments before it pushed off. Its captain wasn’t happy, but they’d paid for passage to the mainland, and that was that.

“Phew,” Mae said. She stared at Novis as it slowly shrunk, fading into the horizon. “That was close!”

Boey stood next to her, eyes watching the water.

“Do you think we’ll see one?” he asked.

“One what?”

“What do you think? A mermaid!” Boey paused, then said, “If there really is one out there, maybe we’ll come across it! That sailor can’t have come from too far out for the shape that dagon was in. Maybe it’s still close by.”

Mae snorted, but she said, “I doubt it, but maybe? I sure hope so.”

Boey turned his back on the island and tilted his head toward the sun.

“Man, I feel better already,” he said. He pumped a fish in the air and did a little jump. “Sweet freedom!”

Mae grinned and said, “Nomah getting to you that bad?”

Boey sighed dramatically. “You have _no idea_ ,” he said. “It’s always Boey this, Boey that, you’re not making enough progress with your magic, you need to pray more to Mila, you need to rub my back.” Boey shuddered. “I used to think he was funny, but I’d give anything to have Mother Tegan as my instructor.”

“Seriously, Boey? _Tegan_?” Mae asked, incredulous.

“What, she’s talented! And she’s sure not going to pull those sorts of—”

“You just like her because she’s pretty and buxom,” Mae accused. “Do you even know what her face looks like?”

Boey went red. “Of course I do!” he said. “I respect her for her skills, not her looks!”

“Prove it!”

“Look, it’s—ugh, why are you like this?” Boey asked.

Mae grinned and tilted her face to the sun to match Boey’s posture. The air smelled of salt and spray. Mae breathed it in deep and closed her eyes. She could feel her own cares blowing away with the sea breeze. The sailors sang, working the sails to navigate them safely out onto the open ocean, and the sound of it coupled with the crash of waves against the hull soothed her.

“Hey, Mae?” Boey asked.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t mean what I said just now,” Boey said, “about you being the way you are. I’m sorry. I just get defensive sometimes and I don’t mean to. People in town assume I’m at the priory to be around pretty girls, and I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It just gets to me sometimes.”

Mae cracked her eyes open and found Boey looking at her, a worried look on his face.

“Hey, it’s fine, what you said didn’t bother me at all!” Mae said. “I’m sorry I didn’t let the Mother Tegan thing drop.” She stuck out a hand. “Put it past us?”

Boey grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“I’m glad you’re my friend, Mae,” he said.

“Boey?”

He shrugged and said, “I don’t say it enough, that’s all—that you’re my friend. I just wanted you to know.”

Mae lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“You think I don’t know that, doofus?” she asked. Boey looked at the deck and smiled. “Now get yourself ready because I’m putting you to work!”

“Wait, what?” Boey asked.

“We’re gonna spot a mermaid if it’s the last thing we do!” Mae proclaimed. “Hope you packed your eagle eyes because I’m on a mission! You get first watch, okay?”

“Of course I do,” Boey grumbled. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Right back at you.”

 

After two days with nothing much to do, Mae found herself pacing the deck wherever she wouldn’t be in the way. Boey napped down below in his cot, probably snoring up a storm and dreaming of their arrival on mainland, but Mae couldn’t rest.

No mermaid sightings yet. Mae hadn’t really expected to see one, at least so soon, but _still_ , she was a little disappointed. She found herself staring across the open ocean, unsure of which direction she faced. She’d befriended a pair of cats that the crew brought aboard the ship, affectionately named Shanty and Pete for obvious reasons, and they kept her company on-deck. Shanty only had one eye, and one of Pete’s ears was torn to shreds, but they were relaxed around people. Mae lavished attention on them whenever she could. Now, Pete sat on a crate beside her, sunning himself and purring. Mae didn’t pet him for fear of startling him.

“Hey, lass.”

Mae nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Oh, you,” she said. “You’re the guy from the port.”

The man—the one with the eyepatch and the sword—smirked. Mae distrusted the look on principal.

“Nice of you to remember me. Where’s your friend?” The man looked at Pete and extended a hand. The cat sniffed his fingers for a few moments, then nuzzled his hand. The man dutifully ran his hand over Pete’s head, scratching behind his good ear. He purred louder; Mae felt betrayed.

“What’s it to you?” Mae demanded. “Look, mister, should know that I’m a mage. You know what that means? I can call down lightning and fry you in your boots if you try anything.”

“Hey, easy there,” the man said, holding up both hands. Pete opened his eyes and blinked at the pair of them, upset he was no longer the center of attention. “I’m not here for any funny business. The name’s Saber. I’m a mercenary.”

“And?” Mae asked. “We’re on vacation, not looking for a fight. Go sell your sword elsewhere.”

“Harsh,” Saber said. “But beside the point. I overheard you back on Novis—you said you were going to look for a mermaid?” Mae didn’t answer. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but if you value your life—don’t.”

“Don’t trust you?” Mae asked, deliberately misunderstanding. “Yeah, already on that one.”

Saber cursed under his breath.

“Don’t go looking for a mermaid,” he said. “Nothing out in these waters but pirate scum. You’ll get yourself killed. Besides, no matter what that sailor said, mermaids don’t help people.”

“They don’t?” Mae asked. “But he said…”

“Yeah, I heard him,” Saber said. He leaned on the railing a little bit away from her. “Thing is, the old stories all say that mermaids _eat_ people, not help them.”

“They—they _what?_ ” Mae asked, her voice going shrill.

“Yeah, that’s why they were hunted, or so they say,” Saber said. “They lured sailors to their deaths. Something about singing.”

“You’re thinking of sirens,” Mae said. “Mermaids aren’t like that.” In truth, she had no idea if she was right, but she wanted to believe it. Mermaids _had_ to be good. One had helped the fisherman, right?

Saber waved a hand as if to say it wasn’t important.

“Regardless, it’s just a story, you know—right up there with Mila and Duma and all the rest. Ghost stories to keep little mages in their beds at the priory at night.”

“Hey, Mila is _real_ ,” Mae shot back.

“I’ve never seen her,” Saber said.

“Just because you don’t _see_ her doesn’t mean she isn’t real. She’s got a temple up on the mainland and everything! She _lives_ there!”

“Oh, yeah?” Saber asked. “You ever seen her?”

“Well,” Mae said. “No. But I would know, okay? Mage, remember?”

“I thought it was clerics who heard the voice of Mila,” Saber said.

“ _Look_ ,” Mae growled, “I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re starting to really piss me off, okay? I didn’t ask for your information or your opinion or anything else, and—”

“ _PIRATES_!”

Mae fell silent at the cry. Both she and Saber turned to face the source of the noise. A sailor high up in the crow’s nest called down.

“Pirates ahead!”

Beside her, Saber cursed.

“Mae!”

Mae spun around to see Boey, half-dressed and hair disheveled, barreling onto the deck and towards her. He looked across the horizon, squinting against the sun.

“I heard pirates, and I…” Boey said, trailing off.

“You two better get below deck before they get any closer,” Saber advised. “Scram, both of you.”

“Who are you to tell us what to do?” Boey demanded. “I’ll have you know that I’m a mage—”

“Yeah, I already got this spiel from her,” Saber said, gesturing with his thumb at Mae.

“Hey!”

“You’re kids. Let the adults handle this,” Saber said. He called across the deck to one of the crew to do something to the rigging, and wasn’t that just arrogant? What made him think _he_ could give orders? Mae bristled with their dismissal.

“We’re not _kids_ ,” Mae said. “We’re mages. Big difference. We can fight!”

“Yeah!” Boey said. “I’m not afraid of pirates!”

“Then you’ve more courage than sense,” Saber said. “Those thug’s’ll as soon as kill you as sell you.”

“They can’t do either if they’re dead,” Mae said. “We’re staying right here.” A thought crossed her mind. “If you’re so worried, why don’t you protect us as we roast the baddies?”

“As you—lass, you’ve got stones, no question about it, but—”

“No buts,” Mae said. “We’re staying to fight. You do what you want, but we’re going to help protect this ship.”

Saber looked around and sighed.

“I knew I should have stayed below to have a drink,” he muttered.

 

True to her word, Mae stayed on-deck as the pirate ship approached. There were oars sticking out the sides of the ship to guide it through the choppy waters, and she could see a veritable army of pirates waiting on deck, axes and swords gleaming in the midday sun.

“Wow, uh,” Boey said. “That is a _lot_ of pirates. Mae, are you sure about this?”

“Of course!” Mae said. “What, you getting cold feet?”

“No, but your knees are shaking,” Boey said quietly. Mae knew it to be true without looking down.

“So are yours,” Mae said. “You keep bumping me with one.”

“Sorry,” Boey said, laughing a little. “It’s just—I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my life.”

Mae considered making a joke, but something in Boey’s tone struck her as too sincere.

“Me, too,” Mae admitted.

“Should—do you think we should go below deck?” Boey asked.

“No, I mean—I’m going to stay and fight. You and Saber’d be skewered without my lightning,” she said, words braver than she felt. “That is—if you don’t want to fight, you don’t have to—jeez, I’m bad at this. What I mean is, you don’t have to stay on my account. I’m going to fight, but you don’t have to.”

“I’m staying with you,” Boey insisted. He took a deep, shaky breath and let it out. “We’re going to survive this. We’re going to get to the mainland and back and we’re going to see mermaids and it’s going to be all right.”

Mae nodded. Deep breath in, controlled exhale. She could do this, she could do this…

“You two really doing this?” Saber asked. Mae turned to see him, the movement jerky with fear. He’d gathered a few of the crew who’d armed themselves, but Saber was the only one who looked even remotely professional. “No shame in turning back.”

“No way,” Mae said, voice steadier than the rest of her. “Let me at ‘em!”

“I’m ready for anything,” Boey offered. He’d managed to mask the doubt in his voice.

Saber sighed and looked to the crew. “Up and at ‘em, boys. If they board, they’re dead.”

 

Mae stood on deck, watching the crew remove the pirates’ ropes and hooks from the masts and railings. Her hands hadn’t stopped shaking, and she had a burn on one finger from a mismanaged spell.

They’d survived.

They’d _survived_.

The other boat—the pirate vessel—was a mess of bodies. The crew of the _Pride of Zofia_ had already checked the ship and taken what valuables they could—foodstuff, mostly. Times like these you couldn’t have too much food. Mae had found a silver purse which she split with Boey so they could get something nice on the mainland. He counted the coins as she stared at the ship.

“Mae?” Boey asked.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

Mae nodded. She caught sight of Saber wiping the blood off of his blade and drinking from a bottle.

“I’m okay,” she said. “You?”

“A little shook up, but I’ll be fine,” Boey said. Quieter, he added, “I thought the sailors were exaggerating about the pirate problem. I didn’t think we’d actually run into any.”

Mae had heard about the pirates, too. So had everyone at the priory. After all, it was (allegedly) why they had little else to eat but shieldfish. Still, she’d thought…she wasn’t sure what she’d thought.

She came to sit next to Boey.

“Hey,” she said, “we’re more than halfway to the mainland, right? I’m sure if was just a fluke.”

“Wishful thinking like that’ll get you killed.”

Mae turned at Saber’s voice.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I was going to thank you,” he said. “Guess I’ll just leave.”

“Wait!” Mae said. “Wait, sorry. That was rude, right? Right. Yeah, okay. Sorry. I’m glad you’re still in one piece.”

Saber shook his head.

“I’m just glad you two made it out,” he said. “Do you need anything? Doesn’t magic take life force to cast?”

“Something like that,” Boey said. “We just need to rest, is all.”

Saber frowned and looked over his shoulder.

“Do you want me to bring you anything?” he asked. “You two saved our hides. The crew’d probably be willing to part with anything if it’d help you.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one they should be thanking,” Mae said. “What with all the fancy footwork you were doing out there.” She wiggled her arms in a parody of swordplay. “You kept them away from us. I saw you.”

Saber scratched the back of his head.

“Can’t have kids dying out here,” he said. “It’s not civilized.”

Boey snorted. “Civilized?”

“He called us kids and _that’s_ what you take issue with?” Mae asked.

“Simmer down, lass,” Saber said. “Cut me some slack, eh? I’m, what, twice your age? It’s hard to see you as adults, never mind what you can do with that magic of yours.”

“It’s fine,” Boey said. “Really.”

“I guess,” Mae muttered. She felt exhausted by all of this conversation, and she felt herself trying to sink to the deck.

“Mae?” Boey asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Really. See, I’m still hyper! Ready to go!”

“Right, Miss Hyper,” Saber said. “You sit tight. I’ll be back with some provisions. Food helps, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Boey said. “Thank you, Saber.”

“Any time, kid.”

Mae sank down to sit next to Boey as Saber strode off. She leaned against the wall of the ship and shut her eyes against the sun.

“That,” she said, “was hard.”

“You’re telling me,” Boey said. “You were amazing!”

Mae laughed. “Did you see yourself out there? I’m never criticizing your fireballs. Ever. Again. You toasted those pirates like marshmallows without batting an eye.”

“It was them or us,” Boey said. “But they way you called down that lightning? That was incredible! You’ve got to teach me how to do that.”

Mae grinned. “Only if you show me how you deflect attacks the way you do. It’s like they don’t even hit you.”

They were trading tips and thoughts when Saber returned with a few plates of food. Mae roped him into the conversation easily, demanding to know how he’d learned swordplay and could he teach her? Boey laughed and Mae pulled faces and Saber nearly choked on his beer from snorting it.

The three of them were having such a good time, they didn’t notice how the ship rocked strangely all of a sudden, as if something large had passed just underneath of it.

 

The next day saw Mae, Boey, and Saber crammed below deck with all the rest of the passengers.

“I don’t feel so good,” Boey groaned.

“Don’t you dare throw up on me,” Mae snapped, even as her own stomach flipped over. Across from them, Saber sipped something brown and definitively alcoholic. “Do you ever stop drinking?”

Saber held his bottle in his lap as he said, “No sense being sober in a storm like this. It’s not like I can fight clouds.”

Mae huffed but didn’t have a good response. Her stomach growled, and not in the good way. She’d been sort-of seasick this entire time, but now, with the ship _really_ rocking back and forth…

“Ugh,” she moaned. “I don’t like this.”

“Never been in a storm on the sea?” Saber asked.

“We’ve left Novis before,” Boey said. _Twice_ , Mae thought. “Never in the summer, though.”

“Ah,” Saber said. “That explains it. The sea’s always rougher these months. Something about the heat kicks up storms like you read about.”

Mae held her stomach and drew into a ball. She felt _terrible._

“Oh no,” she said. She made to stand. “Here I am lecturing Boey on not throwing up down here… I’ll be right back.”

“Now hold on, lass,” Saber said. “You go up there you’ll just get soaked, or worse, tossed overboard.”

“Mae, sit back down,” Boey said, pulling on her dress. “It’s okay, I’ll find us a bucket or something.”

Mae made a beeline for the stairs, her legs nearly giving out under her. She just had to make it to the deck—up there, if she was sick, it’d be fine, right?

As soon as she hit the stairs, wind and rain slapped her across the face. The boat swayed violently from side to side, and it felt much, much worse up here than it did down below. She made her way to one side, nearly crashing into someone, when she heard a cry.

She turned in time to see a wave—large, ominous—rising from the opposite side. The boat tipped, and so, too, did Mae. Her feet slipped against the soaked boards, and her back hit the railing. Momentum kept her going until she could feel nothing, nothing—and then a solid slap of cold water against her back, rising up to her sides, covering her.

Mae opened her mouth and felt the ocean rushing in, pressing all around her.

Moments later, she surfaced, gasping and coughing. She made to scream for help—the ship was still close, still within arm’s reach! But a wave smashed against her, and then another, and then another. Her arms ached from the effort of staying afloat, and she felt herself growing cold.

Thunder crackled overhead as Mae tried to swim to the boat. It moved substantially faster than she did, not that she could swim all that fast. She’d never properly learned; the only times she’d gone swimming had been when she snuck down to the shore when she was little, eager to get away from everyone.

The ship slipped from her grasp. Mae struggled and pushed herself on, muscles screaming. Sea water filled her mouth, and she spat it back out. Her eyes stung and her clothes weighed her down, but still she fought. The wind roared above and the waves buffeted her in all directions, undoing whatever progress she made.

Eventually, her arms gave out. Shortly thereafter, her legs gave out. Desperate, miserable, Mae cried. She prayed to Mila to save her— _anyone_ to save her. She wept and pushed and dropped until she could no longer keep her head above water. Mae closed her eyes to keep the salt out.

She sank.

 

Gulls sang from somewhere overhead, calling to one another across the sky. Waves splashed gently against a shore just nearby.

Mae opened her eyes and immediately shut them. Too bright. She tried to stretch and found her body stiff and aching. She brought her hands to rub her eyes and found them covered with sand. Her entire _body_ was covered with sand.

She rolled onto her side and tried to sit up. It took her a few tries, but she managed to get at least partially upright, which she considered a win.

When she finally managed to open her eyes, it was to a beautiful blue sky dotted with puffy clouds and a calm sea.

The memory of the ship—falling overboard, drowning—sprang to mind, and Mae looked down at herself. She poked her leg and found it solid. There was the other one, too—and a torso, and two arms, and obviously she couldn’t see her own head but she knew it was there.

She was _alive_. Whole and hardly the worse for wear.

She swallowed, looking around. There was no sign of the ship, or of any other boat. In fact, she couldn’t see much of _anything_. There was a building on the island, large and imposing. Truly, it more closely resembled a mausoleum than anything else. Something about it screamed _dead things_ , and it gave Mae the shivers. The sea came up to the very front steps and lapped against the smoothed stone. Other than that, there was nothing. She was under one of the only trees she could see—a spindly, blackened thing that looked as though it had been petrified. There were no people, no animals other than the gulls overhead, and no signs of how she’d arrived.

Mae couldn’t have washed ashore…could she?

She stood, brushing herself off as best as she could. Right. Stranded on a seemingly-deserted island with no food and no fresh water. She could handle this. She would find a way.

She swallowed, aware as she hadn’t been before of her dry mouth and empty stomach. Nothing to do about that right now except go foraging.

Right.

That big, deathly-looking building was as good a start as any.

 _Right_.

Mae walked slowly towards the hulking edifice. Her feet sank into the dry sand, and she considered pulling off her boots to move faster. The thought had her realizing that her boots were _dry_. So were her feet. She looked down at herself. Dry all over, if a bit sandy. Evidently, she’d been ashore for quite some time.

When she reached the side of the building, she passed around to the front, where the steps sank into the water. She climbed over the side to reach the dry ones, careful not to slip. The steps themselves were deep and rose gently, making the climb an easy one. Mae was grateful for that if nothing else; her legs burned.

In the entryway, Mae could tell that the building had been abandoned for some time. There were no signs of life save for a few scattered piles of debris. Still, there was no better place to search and make a plan. At the very least, it could serve as a shelter if another storm passed through.

“Hello?” she called in. Her voice echoed off of the walls. “Anyone in there?”

Mae didn’t hear a response, not that she’d expected one. Hesitantly, she made her way forward.

The passage she found herself in was narrow but quickly opened up to a wide atrium. Part of the roof had caved in, she saw, and sunlight filtered in from the hole. A thick column of rock held up the rest of the ceiling. It sat in the very center of the room, with circular paths branching off on either side. From what Mae could see, they both led to the same location.

In the immediate vicinity, Mae found that the ground was littered with beached coral and dried seaweed. The former she knew to be valuable, but the latter was edible. She pocketed some of each as she found it, brushing off the worst of the dirt and the sand. A source of fresh water and she’d be set—for a few days, at least.

She passed along the right path and found it partially submerged. Plants she couldn’t identify grew along the path in the water, their fronds waving gently as she passed. She pressed on and emerged from the water, shaking off her feet. So much for dry boots.

She passed what appeared to be an exit in favor of venturing around the atrium in its entirety. It seemed as though the parts above water were actually the uppermost level of what must have once been a truly enormous structure. She peered over the edge, into the space between the walkway and the wall, and saw a deep, clear pool that stretched down and down. She wondered how long ago it had flooded and how deep it really ran.

Mae was so preoccupied with the depth that she nearly missed the headstone.

She tilted her head and tried to read the writing. It was almost perfectly below the hole in the ceiling, and wasn’t that just Mae’s luck? For all that she could see it perfectly, it had been weathered to the point of inscrutability. Whoever had been laid to rest couldn’t be remembered—not by the headstone, anyway.

Mae patted the stone awkwardly and turned back around. No sense in lingering in this area; there were no other supplies she could see—nothing she could use, at any rate. She picked her way across the rocks and coral until she reached the possible-exit. There was light coming from ahead, but it didn’t seem natural. Fire, perhaps? Or something else—magical.

Mae approached with caution. The path narrowed, widened, dipped into the water and rose—and finally opened into a new space.

“Thank the Mother,” Mila said, voice hoarse and croaky. She cleared her throat and took a few steps forward before she fell to her knees.

There, before her, was an altar to the Mother Mila. Mae had never been so grateful to see her icon in her entire life. Flanking the idol were the lights that Mae had spotted just moments ago, magical flames designed to last an eternity and then some.

“Please, Mila,” Mae pleaded. “Please, help me…”

Mae felt herself growing warm; one of the Mother’s blessings, she guessed. She knelt at the idol’s feet and breathed deeply. Though it was clear that no one had been here for an age—maybe longer—the idol looked and smelled as clean as when it was carved. Mae sat before it, grateful and sure that it was going to be alright.

Her relief was short-lived.

Mae’s eyes shot open at a sound from the atrium—an enormous splash, and a deep rumble. Her heart pounded in her chest.

“Mila?” she asked.

No response, either from the idol or the atrium.

“Hello?” she called, voice shaking now. Though she still felt warm, the protected feeling she’d had faded into nothing in moments. Mae felt naked and vulnerable, and she did not like it.

“Show yourself!” she ordered, voice shaking.

“I’d like to, but I can’t get much farther onto land,” a voice—feminine, _beautiful_ —replied. “Can you come out here?”

“Where are you?” Mae asked, spinning around.

“By the front,” the woman answered. Mae moved slowly back to the atrium.

In the light, just by the weathered headstone, a figure perched.

No—not perched. Perching was for birds, and this wasn’t a bird. No, this was a woman—a very _big_ woman. Her arms rested against the path and her sopping wet hair dripped where it lay against her shoulders. She breathed, and the atrium seemed to hum with the vibrations.

“Are you…?” Mae asked. Her eyes were wide, and she couldn’t help but gape. “You’re…”

The woman smiled, gentle and beatific. Mae caught sight of enormous pearls dangling from her ears. Each had to be the size of a cat, maybe bigger.

“Hello,” the woman said. “I’m glad you’re awake. I was afraid I hadn’t gotten to you in time.”

“You—did you save me?” Mae asked. The woman nodded. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much! You have no idea how scared I was—I thought I was a goner!”

“Truly, it was nothing,” the woman said. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“ _Nothing_? I mean, you _saved me_. That’s a big deal in my book.”

The woman’s face turned slightly blue, and she giggled.

“I couldn’t very well leave you to drown. I’d have felt awful.”

“Well, thank you regardless,” Mae said. “I owe you.”

“You are very welcome, but you owe me nothing,” the woman replied.

Mae shook her head, but she knew a losing fight when she saw one.

“If you say so,” she said. “My name’s Mae, by the way. I’m a mage from the isle of Novis.”

“Novis?” the woman—Celica—asked. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. I live in the waters around the island. I was to be sent there once, as a child.” The woman’s smile turned sad. “It’s just as well that I didn’t make it, I suppose. This form has its advantages.”

“This…form?” Mae asked. “Because you’re so big?”

Celica shook her head. Something rumbled, and Mae instinctively took a step back.

A _thing_ rose up from the water. It nearly obscured all light for how massive it was, and the wall of water it kicked up was no joke.

When Mae could see, though, she understood.

It was a tail—huge, true, and blindingly white. The wet scales shimmered like cut diamonds polished to a shine, and the delicate fins all along the top and bottom waved weakly in the air.

Celica pulled her tail back underwater.

“You’re the mermaid,” Mae said, voice full of awe. “You—you helped the fisherman with the dagon!”

Celica’s eyes were wide.

“How did you…?”

“He was from Novis!” Mae said. “He brought the ship into port with the dagon aboard—you should have _seen_ everyone’s faces! It was incredible!”

“Did he mention me?” Celica asked.

“He did,” Mae said. “You’re famous! Or—maybe. The guy’s wife thought he was nuts so maybe he didn’t tell anyone else.”

Celica’s face crumbled. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“What?” Mae asked. “Is that a bad thing?”

Celica nodded. “I wasn’t supposed to be seen, this is…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Mae said, holding up her hands. Celica looked ready to cry. “Like I said, his wife didn’t believe him. He probably didn’t tell anyone else. Probably. You’re safe.”

“I don’t know,” Celica murmured. “What if…?”

Mae didn’t know how to reassure the mermaid.

“I’m sorry,” Mae said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“What?” Celica asked.

Mae shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “Sorry that you got seen, I guess. Whatever happens, though, it’ll be all right. I promise! I swear that as soon as I get home I’ll go right up to the guy myself and make him take a binding oath never to tell a soul!”

Celica smiled then. Mae found her eyes drawn to Celica’s lips, softly curving and pink in the light. The fisherman hadn’t been kidding; Celica was _gorgeous_.

Mae was screwed.

“I trust you,” Celica said. One of her hands emerged from the water. She outstretched her palm, and Mae placed her hand on the tip of one finger. Celica’s skin was cold and clammy—to be expected, Mae supposed, considering she was a _mermaid_. A real, live mermaid! She could just picture the look on Boey’s face when she told him that he’d met her!

 _Boey_.

“Mae?” Celica asked. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Mae said. “Just—I had a friend on the ship I fell off of. I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t see any others overboard,” Celica said. “I’m sure your friend is okay.” Mae didn’t respond, and Celica pressed on. “Until I can get a ship to pick you up, you’ll have to stay here. I’ll see what I can do about fresh water. I hope you don’t mind fish.”

 

True to her word, Celica returned several hours later with two jugs of water, the tops sealed with wax to keep the sea out of them, and a fish about the size of Mae.

“I didn’t know how hungry you’d be,” Celica admitted. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had human company.” She pulled her dagger from under the water and set about removing the scales. Mae had smashed a few old, empty crates she found lying about and used the wood to build a small fire. The smoke wafted up through the hole in the ceiling, and Mae wondered if any passing ships would take notice.

“Thank you,” Mae said.

“It’s my pleasure. It’s the least I could do.”

Mae watched as Celica made short work of the scales, her knife glinting in the light.

“Celica?” Mae asked.

“Mmm?”

“You said…you said you were sent to live in Novis, right?”

“Yes,” Celica said. “Many years ago, when I was still a child.”

“But, aren’t you there?” Mae asked. “I mean, you said you stay around the waters, right?”

“In a way,” Celica said. “It’s not the same.”

“Huh?”

Celica smiled. “It’s nothing, really,” she said. “Now, as for cooking this…”

 

Mae lay awake, unable to sleep. The hard stones under her didn’t help matters, nor did the chill that seemed to have taken over the ruins. She could go to the idol of Mila, she knew; it was warmer in there. Getting up seemed altogether too challenging, though, so she remained where she was.

Celica. Mae bit her lips. She’d met a real live mermaid, and she was the most beautiful thing Mae had ever seen in her life. She couldn’t even begin to fathom how the fisherman hadn’t spoken of her beauty before all else. Though—now that Mae thought of it, he’d had a wife, hadn’t he? Maybe he was trying to be polite about it all.

Still, Celica was…Mae didn’t have the appropriate words. Celica left Mae’s stomach twisting and turning in a way that meant _anxiety_ but not quite? She looked at Celica and her mouth was dry, her hands were fidgeting, and her knees felt ready to collapse underneath of her.

Mae rolled over, looking to the edge of the walkway where Celica had been, her arms across the stone as if she were in a pool. Maybe she’d gone to one of the flooded lower levels? Or else into the open ocean?

Mae found she didn’t like that idea much. She didn’t want to be alone on the island, never mind how quiet and peaceful it seemed to be. She had food for the time being, but in a few hours? The fish would go bad fast, Mae knew. The water at least she could keep for a while, but when she ran out?

 _If_ , she amended. Celica wouldn’t let her die here. It wasn’t her way.

Mae curled into a ball and willed herself to sleep. It did not come.

 

Sunlight poured in through the cracks and holes of the ruined temple all too early for Mae’s tastes. She stretched, her body popping and aching from the less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements.

The fire had burned down to nothing in the night. No sign of Celica.

Mae forced herself to stand. She drank a little bit of water, then headed outside.

The air was still just outside of the temple—eerily so. Mae squinted across the sparkling sea and saw no sign of a ship. With a sigh, she scanned the island itself. Dead trees, more dead trees, _more_ dead trees—no Celica. What had she been expecting? The girl was a _mermaid_. Sea creature, Mae reminded herself. Probably couldn’t come on land.

She sat down on the steps and watched the water as it came and went in waves. It was going to be a hot one, she guessed, and unpleasantly so if the humidity was anything to go by. Still, without a cloud in the sky, Mae supposed there wouldn’t be any rain.

She lay out on the stones and closed her eyes to block out the sun. She listened to the rush of the ocean as she did, trying to imagine Boey’s face when she finally got back.

 _Boey_. Poor guy. Mae hoped he was all right, wherever he’d found himself.

Mae grinned at the thought. Boey was safe at port, probably worrying his shoes off while Mae was out here, lounging in the shade.

 _Wait_. _The shade?_

Mae opened her eyes. The sky was a sickly shade of green. She couldn’t hear the gulls, though it struck her that she hadn’t been able to hear them before, either.

The sky shifted, and a big yellow sphere appeared before her.

Mae screamed as she lurched to her feet.

Not the sky—nope, not the sky _at all_ — ** _necrodragon_**.

The beast roared, bearing its teeth. Mae slipped on the stone, and the monster pulled back its neck to snap at her.

Mae lurched forward, tears in her eyes as she struggled to get inside. The dragon’s head collided with the entrance with a sick _snap_ , and more stones fell all around her. Mae forced herself to her feet and ran—into the atrium, past the remains of the fire, and on into the far room where the idol of Mila stood, silent and impassive.

Gone was the warmth of the room, though the torches remained lit.

Outside, the necrodragon shrieked.

Mae crouched by the idol, shaking.

 

A day passed. Mae snuck out to the atrium for her water jugs, and in doing so, she attracted the attention of the dragon once more. She very nearly didn’t make it back into the altar room, and when she did, she resolved not to leave for any reason.

Her stomach growled. Water made her hungrier. She had nothing to do and nowhere to run and eventually, that thing was going to find her and eat her for lunch.

Mae hoped Celica was close—actually, scratch that, she hoped Celica was as far away as mermaid-ly possible. Did dragons eat mermaids? Could Celica fight something that could _fly_? _Stupid_ , she thought. She’d really believed she was going to make it out of this alive.

She thought of Novis and sent a prayer to Mila that someone would find her. Someone would come looking. Celica would bring someone, and…and they’d be devoured by a necrodragon. Maybe it would be best if no one came at all.

Mae clutched her knees to her chest.

 

Another day passed.

Mae curled up on the floor.

 

Another.

The water was gone.

 

Another.


End file.
